


Storybrooke After Dark

by modestroad



Series: Nowhere to Go But Everywhere [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Drinking & Talking, F/F, Gen, Magic, Minor Violence, Pop Culture, Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:02:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modestroad/pseuds/modestroad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night of sharing, comforting, drinking and discovery lead Regina, Emma and Henry on a road unexpected.<br/> </p>
            </blockquote>





	Storybrooke After Dark

 

 

“So…baby names.”

 

Snow looks at her husband from across their living room.

 

“For a boy or a girl?”

 

“Does it matter, David? A week ago we didn’t know I was pregnant.”

 

David looks up from the book and gives his wife a reassuring smile. “Well, we do now and our baby deserves a name.”

 

Snow's face softens and she’s about to say something when the door opens, and Emma walks in with an upset-looking Henry.

 

David puts down the book and gets up to meet his daughter slash wife’s-cellmate, trying very hard not to show emotion. Henry thinks they are old friends, but Emma is still David’s baby girl. “Emma, Henry. I thought you were at Granny’s.”

 

“We were.” Emma makes a grimace that doesn’t sit well with David and Henry just waves and heads to the couch, cheeks an uncharacteristic shade of red. Thankfully, David doesn’t have to ask because Emma adds, “Henry is going to spend the night with you guys. I, uh, need to do something.”

 

“Do something?” Snow asks from behind him. “Do what? Emma, it’s getting late.”

 

“Yes, well, I need to find Regina. The Mayor. Regina.”

 

“We know who Regina is, Emma,” David hears the frustration in his wife's voice and crosses his arms in front of him.

 

“What's she up to now?”

 

“Nothing. Regina did nothing this time.” And the way she looks at her son is enough to clue them in.

 

“Oh boy,” Snow says and smiles at the boy when he jumps up from the couch.

 

“I didn’t mean to!”

 

“He didn’t mean what?” David asks and before Emma can answer, Henry runs upstairs to the bedroom, closing the door loudly behind him.

 

“Emma?”

 

“He was talking with some kids,” she says, running a hand through her hair. “HecalledheramilfandReginaheardhim.”

 

“What?”

 

“He called her a MILF,” Emma explains and David looks at Snow. Yep, she doesn’t know what it means either.

 

“I-Is that a bad word?”

 

Emma blinks a couple of times. “I can’t believe you don’t know what a MILF is when Regina does. Actually, I’m very curious _why_ Regina knows what a MILF is when you obviously don’t.”

 

“Not the point here, Emma.”

 

“MILF is, you know, I mean, you don’t, obviously, well, MILF is-“

 

“Emma, honey, it’s late and I’m pregnant.”

 

“MILF stands for Mother I’d Like to, uh, you know. Fu-have-have sex with her.”

 

“Oh no!”

 

Emma nods, and even David can’t think of something worse right now. They were working fine with Regina, she was helping them with the Wicked Witch and—David turns his head back to look at his wife—even with the baby.

 

“So, take care of Henry for one night?”

 

David smiles at her. Somehow he can’t see Henry being interested at baby names.

 

 

 

 

“Here you are.”

 

“Here I am.”

 

Without waiting for Regina to invite her (and not giving her the chance to dismiss her either), Emma pulls out her jacket and sits at the opposite side of the booth. Regina looks at her as if she wants to say something, shakes her head and takes a sip of her…whisky? Bourbon? What do fallen Queens drink? Emma doesn’t know, but she’s about to find out.

 

“You come here often?” she asks, and regrets it right away. Luckily Regina only stares at her with something that could pass for a smile if the lighting in the room was better. Or if Regina knew how to smile sincerely. Nine times out of ten, when Regina smiles something bad is going to happen.

 

“From time to time I like to come here for a drink.” Regina answers, shrugging, like it’s not a big deal. So she likes to drink. So what?

 

Only it is a big deal because all Emma saw before was the Evil Queen and now, knowing that Regina comes here to drink, in this place that looks like it’s the setting of a clichéd bad cop movie from the 80s, gives Emma new perspective on the Queen.  A very _human_ new perspective on the Queen.

 

If Emma wants to be honest, the way she views Regina changed in Neverland, but still. It’s one thing to realize that the monster in your closet is real, and another to know that the monster likes to go out for drinks.

 

“So, what are you drinking?” Emma looks for the waitress and waves at her when she makes eye contact. “I’m buying this round.”

 

When Regina laughs, it's pleasant in an unexpected way. The sound is foreign to Emma’s ears, deep and evil-ish; like, exactly how a villain in a Disney musical would laugh.  Emma stares at her because she hadn’t heard Regina laugh until now. “What?” she asks weakly, not understanding the reason behind the Queen’s outburst.

 

“I don’t think you can afford it.” Regina drains her glass at the same time the waitress reaches their table.

 

“Another?” the waitress asks Regina, and there’s no fear in her voice, just the tiredness of too many hours serving others while kids or a lover is waiting for you at home. Emma can relate to that, although she never had someone to wait for her at home. Not until two years ago.

 

Regina nods. “A glass of water too. Two, since the Sheriff is joining me. And can you please ask about my order? It’s been twenty minutes.”

 

“I’ll ask again, but it’s a busy night and we are short-staffed,” the waitress says. Emma has worked in enough shitty bars to know that while the kitchen is still open at this time, the order of a “difficult” costumer will be the last one to be served. “With the Wicked Witch and her flying monkeys, half the staff didn’t come in for work today.”

 

Right _,_ Emma had forgotten about that. “Can I have a beer and a shot? Thanks.”

 

The waitress leaves with their order and a promise to speed up things in the kitchen. Regina looks pleased at that, and they sit in a comfortable silence until the waitress returns with their drinks and a jar of water.

 

“What did you order anyway?” Emma downs the shot and takes a sip of her beer. “A Caesar salad?”

 

“Extra spicy hot wings and bacon and cheddar fries. You’re free to join me.”

 

Emma has less trouble accepting that Regina was the Evil Queen, and judging from the Queen’s little smile, it shows in her face. She takes another sip from her beer to hide her embarrassment. “Greasy comfort food. So the plan is to get wasted.”

 

“The plan is to get drunk, Miss Swan. I do not plan to spend the better part of the night having a tête-à-tête with the toilet.”

 

 “Oh yeah?” Emma raises an eyebrow and waits for Regina to take a sip from her drink before adding with a grin, “And this is glass number…?”

 

“Three.”

 

“You are so getting wasted!”

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“No.”

 

Emma crosses her arms in front of her, trying very hard not to let the other woman get on her nerves, although, if her body language has something to say, it’s too late for that. Fine. So Regina wants to get shitfaced and call it whatever it is that she wants to call it. _Fine!_ Emma didn’t come here to see who has the bigger vocabulary, and she might've lived a year with fake memories, but Regina lives in denial.

 

But this is a challenge, Emma knows this is a challenge and for some reason, when Regina challenges her Emma has a hard time backing down.

 

“What’s the difference?” She asks, head up, challenging Regina back.

 

“The difference, Miss Swan,” Regina leans forward and there’s fire in her brown eyes, “is that unlike you, I don’t have the drinking habits of a frat boy.”

 

And if that is not a challenge, Emma doesn’t know what is.

 

 

 

 

Two orders of chicken wings and three drinks (Emma changed to what Regina was having and decided she’s going to pay for the food while Regina gets the drinks) later, Emma licks the last of the hot sauce from her fingers, watching Regina do the same with a wing. Emma has a nice little buzz going on. The food and the water helped, and she’s not drunk, but she’s not sober either.

 

Just…a nice little buzz.

 

Like a warm spring day when the scent of flowers is so thick it makes you heady.

 

Regina had slowed down her drinking to give Emma time to catch up, but something tells Emma that the Queen is not as composed as she claims if the way she licks that chicken bone is an indication.

 

Maybe it’s the drinks or the pleasure she gets from watching Regina lose her cool, but Emma sucks each finger one last time before reaching for a napkin to wipe her lips and says, “He’s right, you know. You are a total MILF.”

 

She doesn’t know what’s more satisfying: the look of pure terror in Regina’s eyes or the sound of the half-eaten chicken wing when it hits the table.

 

 

 

 

“Pick a card.”

 

“You are drunk.”

 

“Pick a card.”

 

“I won’t pick a card and you are drunk.”

 

“You will pick a damn card and I’m not drunk.”

 

Emma stares at Regina with a look that says ‘Really now? Card tricks? I kinda killed a dragon, do you remember the dragon, Regina?’ When the Queen asked for a deck Emma was sure that their waitress would hand them the check and politely ask them to leave. But here they are now, with Regina shuffling the cards and their waitress hovering nearby to catch a glimpse of the trick.

 

“All right.” Regina spreads the cards on the table and like a good performance she gestures the cards to Emma. “Pick one. Don’t show it to me. You can show it to Lizzie, but make sure I will not see it. Don’t put it back, take the deck and hold it in your hands.”

 

And just like a good performer, she puts a hand in front of her eyes and turns her head away. Emma rolls her eyes, but picks a card, knave of hearts, and shows it to Lizzie before putting her card facedown and taking the deck in her hands. “Okay, Dynamo. What now?”

 

Regina turns her head, cheeks red from the alcohol, and smiles first at Emma and then at Lizzie. “Did you see her card?”

 

Lizzie nods, but her lips are sealed.

 

“Was it…the seven of spades?”

 

Lizzie makes a grimace and shakes her head.

 

“No?”

 

Regina looks at Emma for confirmation. “Nope.”

 

“All right. You’ll have to help me here, Emma.”

 

Emma, still holding the cards, nods and waits for Regina to tell her what to do.

 

“Look into my eyes.” Regina puts both elbows on the table and stares into Emma’s eyes. Despite her discomfort, Emma does the same, making sure that her card is still face down near her.

 

It’s not easy to stare into the Queen’s eyes when she has nothing to fight for. Regina has a very powerful stare that Emma is sure has brought down many Kings and many kingdoms, but Regina’s eyes show every emotion from fear to hate and now something warm that Emma can’t quite describe. All she knows is that this is not the Evil Queen staring her down.

 

“Was it…was it the Knave of Hearts?”

 

Emma blinks. How…Did-did Regina read her mind? They can do that? Cool! In a creepy kind of way.

 

“The Knave of Hearts, yes, h-how did you know?” Emma asks, confusion evident in her voice.

 

And then Regina smiles, the smile that says she’s been played for a fool and Emma almost groans. “Look at the deck, dear.”

 

Right. The deck. The one Emma still holds in her hands. The one where every card is Knave of Hearts.

 

Lizzie snorts.

 

“You are an asshole.” Emma tries not to smile, her pride might be hurt, but she cannot wait to try this trick on Henry.

 

_Oh!_

 

 

 

 

“He still likes comic books?”

 

Emma is crouched over the pool table with her cue stick, preparing to knock the yellow ball into the right corner, when Regina asks her about Henry and Emma stops. They haven’t talked about him a lot. In fact, they haven’t talked about the curse or Zelena either. Which is weird since they have been here for almost three hours.

 

“He was so excited about the new Captain America movie.”

 

Regina nods, clearly approving. “At least he’s past his Spiderman phase. What? I never liked Spiderman and he made me watch it every Friday for months.”

 

 Emma focuses back on the game; she too remembers watching Spiderman with him, but it was Regina all along while Emma was chasing after the random guy of the week or partying with her friends or crying over the child she never had the chance to meet. When she strikes the white ball she puts so much power into the shot that she ends up sending the ball two tables away.

 

“Emma…”

 

“No, hey.” She’s not going to cry or feel sorry for herself. She did what she had to do; she gave Henry his best chance and the memories she has are not all bad. Regina did a good job with both of them. Emma remembers good days full with toys and wide smiles and bad days with grumpy Henry and moody Henry and bratty Henry.

 

“Let’s just finish the game. Okay?”

 

 

 

 

The Queen is rather good at pool, much to Emma’s surprise. She’s methodical and when she can’t make the shot, she makes sure that neither can Emma. And then there’s the other thing.

 

The one Emma has been staring at for the last few minutes: Regina’s ass. Curvy and perky and- God, she is not ogling Regina’s ass!

 

Regina considers her options, circling the table like a pro a shot away from going home with the title. The Queen doesn’t like to lose, yet Emma can’t help but think of Henry and how Regina let him go and the last think she needs is to think of their son while Regina hops on the table and switches hands… _Hey!_

 

“You can’t do that!”

 

“I can’t do what, dear?”

 

“You can’t switch hands,” Emma almost demands.

 

Regina turns to look at her. She's currently in the most awkward position Emma has ever seen the Queen in, and yet she still seems as regal as ever. “Yes, I can.”

 

“No, Regina,” and now she’s whining ‘cause that’s not fair! “It’s not fair!”

 

 “Why?”

 

“Because…you can’t!”

 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a rule. Or a logical explanation, for that matter.”

 

“Just,” Emma struggles to find the words. “Don’t.”

 

Regina seems to consider Emma’s plea for a moment before she makes the shot.

 

 

 

 

“His favorite subject is English.”

 

“He is good at telling stories,” Regina agrees, and gives Emma coins for the jukebox. “He’s good at making people believe in him.”

 

Somehow, Emma doesn’t think Regina is talking about her. Emma had to see him eat the turnover to believe in him, but she has heard the story of how Regina saved her and Snow from a deadly curse a couple of times to know that, unlike Emma, Regina always believed in him. She’d just had too much to lose to admit it.

 

A part of Emma is glad to have had Henry all for herself. She hadn’t wanted to give him up, but she was a child herself behind bars and with no future at the time. The only person she ever put her trust in had left her without a warning, but at the same time she had been in the system for far too long to hope for the perfect family for her baby. Perfect families don’t exist, Emma knows that too well.

 

“He likes school.” She laughs. “He didn’t get that from me ‘cause I used to hate school. I used to skip class every chance I got. But I did like history for some reason. Not enough to stay awake in class, but enough to get a B plus at the end of semester.”

 

When Regina says nothing Emma stops reading song titles and, coins still in hand, looks at the brunette.

 

“I was homeschooled.” Regina says casually, but her eyes have a distant look, and Emma just knows that there’s more to the story than Regina is willing to share.

 

Emma bites the inside of her cheeks before feeding the jukebox. “I remember reading his books and answering his questions.”

 

“Yes, well, I couldn’t leave his education in the hands of your mother.”

 

And while it was supposed to be an insult, Emma finds herself smiling. Henry didn’t end up in a perfect family, but he never felt like he was not wanted.

 

The opposite in fact and, sadly, it had the same results.

 

 

 

 

She’s not sure how they end up in the only all-night convenience store in town, but somehow they did and here they are buying a cheap bottle of whiskey (Regina’s words) and a pack of cigarettes while the owner, a young man wearing too much aftershave, looks at Regina as if he wants either to call his dad and run back to his mother, or offer himself to her.

 

(And why does this bother Emma so much?)

 

“T-that’s all?” He stutters and if Emma wasn’t a little bit drunk she would find it adorable, but right now she finds it hilarious and snorts loudly.

 

“The bottle of Reservoir and the pack of Treasurer, yes.”

 

When Emma sees how much those two things cost she stops laughing.

 

In fact, she feels more sober right now.

 

 

 

 

“So, Zelena.” Emma takes a sip from the bottle before giving it back to Regina. “She’s your sister. You have a sister.”

 

Regina exhales, and the smoke fills the cabin of the Bug before she cracks the window open and both women shiver from the cold wind. It’s too late, past one in the morning, for them to be sitting in the car, drinking and smoking like teenagers with fake IDs.

 

“I have a sister.”

 

“Sucks she wants to kill you though.”

 

“Well, she _is_ my mother’s daughter.”

 

“Murder runs in the family, eh?” Emma jokes, but the way Regina grinds her teeth is more than enough to make Emma realize that she stepped over a line.

 

“Indeed.”

 

Emma is at a loss, and it’s not as if Regina is a saint ‘cause she’s not. She’s definitely not. She’s changed, Emma can’t deny that, but she also can’t ignore that two years ago Regina was after her and her family.

 

Should she apologize?

 

Should she offer comfort?

 

Emma does the only thing she can think of.

 

“Let’s listen to some music, okay?”

 

 

 

 

“First time I heard this song, I was in Vegas with some douchebag.” Emma’s not proud of most of her past relationships, but they do make a nice story to tell. “We were after the same bail jumper, and its Vegas, you know?”

 

“I don’t, really, but go on.”

 

“Yeah, well, one thing led to another, we got the guy, together, and there we were, in Vegas, with enough money to rent a nice room, have a nice dinner and play roulette…”

 

“And you slept with him.”

 

“ _And_ found out he was married when I answered his phone while he was in the shower the next day.”

 

Regina laughs again, and she almost sounds carefree.

 

Almost.

 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I had fun, he paid for the room and dinner, and it wasn’t as if I wanted a relationship with him anyway.”

 

“Emma Swan,” Regina says when she finds her composure again. “Gettin’ slizzard in Vegas.”

 

“Yeah.” Emma looks outside the window with a soft smile on her lips when it hits her. “How the hell you know what ‘g’tting' slizzard’ means?”

 

Regina’s smile raises more questions than answers.

 

 

The clock shows that it's minutes before two in the morning and they have been sitting in her car, talking, for almost an hour and while Emma could swear they just left the store, Regina’s pack is almost empty and her mouth feels dry. Hey, at least they stopped drinking.

 

“Are you ready to go home?” Emma is not tired, but she hates to leave Henry alone at…except Henry’s with his grandparents, safely in bed. Emma worries about a lot of things, but Snow’s apartment is Zelena-proof and probably the safest place in the whole town.

 

“No,” Regina shrugs. “But you should head back before those charming parents of yours send the dwarves, or worse, Hook, to find you.”

 

Emma can’t quite tell, but she thinks there’s a hint of jealousy in Regina’s voice when she mentions Hook.

 

 

 

 

Storybrooke after dark is a dead town. Even though Emma’s rebellious years are past her, she still drives them to Regina’s mansion when she should have left her car outside Granny’s and each walked home separately.

 

“Safe and sound,” she says and parks the car on the side of the road, not in the driveway.

 

Regina makes a move to reach for the door, looks outside the window and sighs.

 

Emma doesn’t know what’s wrong until she looks at the mansion: big, dark and so empty without Henry. More a house and less a home, and Emma won’t leave Regina alone in that big house of hers. Not when Zelena is after her and she’s dealing with the knowledge that Henry – her _son_ \- finds her hot.

 

“Wait,” she says before Regina can open the door. “If we were in NYC we could go to a little place I know that stays open all night. And share a cronut with you in the morning.”

 

“I don’t know what that means.” Regina shakes her head. “But tell me, Emma. Do you like football?”

 

“Um, what?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> One of the stories that was sitting on my laptop for months. You can blame Lana and her headcanons for Regina for this one. A big thank you to my betas because, trust me, their job is not easy.


End file.
